


The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret

by tarie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarie/pseuds/tarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What did he, James, want with him, Lucius?  (James/Lucius, implied James/Sirius)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a Queens of the Stone Age song of the same name.

"Now," said James urgently, twisting in his seat to watch Sirius disappear into the men's loo.

"I don't think this is a good idea," said Remus from behind his book. 

"Of course it is," James snorted, turning round to the table. "Padfoot'll get himself neutered if he goes through with it. I'm doing him a _favour_ here, Moony."

Remus lowered his book and studied James for a moment, one brow quirking in a dubious manner. James could just make out a faint frown line between Remus' eyebrows and then up went the book again. Beside Remus, Peter fidgeted in his chair anxiously, picking up his foaming tankard with two hands and drinking deeply from it.

"Oi, Wormtail," James said suddenly, turning to him. "Hand over that potion, yeah?"

The tankard hit the table with a _clang_ and Peter looked up at him with round, bright eyes. His cheeks flushed in excitement as he nodded. "Yeah," said Peter breathlessly, leaning over to rifle through the satchel James had tossed on the extra chair. "Here it is." 

"That's a good lad." James grinned, snatching the phial from Peter's hand. One quick glance at the door to the loo just to make sure the coast was clear and then there was a soft _hiss_ as the potion dribbled over the edge of the phial and into Sirius' tankard.

Peter had barely got the phial tucked back in the satchel before Sirius sidled back up to the table, plopping down in his chair and pulling his tankard close.

"What time is it, Moony?" Sirius raised his arms above his head and stretched before lowering them and shrugging one shoulder and then the other.

The book tilted forward as Remus dug his pocket watch out from inside his cloak. "Half-two." He closed the lid, re-pocketed the watch, and turned his attention back to his book.

"Brilliant," Sirius murmured, curling his fingers around the tankard's handle.

"What do you reckon that arse wants with you, Padfoot?" James asked, one hand mussing up the back of his already-messy hair as he leant back in his chair.

"Something to do with my dreadful fucking family, no doubt," Sirius said darkly, his eyes narrowing so far they were nearly reduced to slits. "Ever since he took up with my cousin--"

"Narcissa?" Peter piped up, looking more interested than James thought he ought to be.

Sirius grunted. The colour in Peter's cheeks deepened and he looked away. 

"Knobheads. The lot of them," muttered Sirius, picking up his tankard. "When I see that poncy git I'm gonna--" He broke off, leaning his head back and tipping the contents of the tankard into his mouth. The tankard had barely been set back on the table top before Sirius' head joined it, smacking off the mahogany with a _bang_. He snorted and then a low, rumbling snore sounded.

Sleeping Draught. Always knocked a bloke right out.

James leapt to his feet and stood behind Sirius' prone form, leaning down to reach beneath him. His fingers found the clasp of Sirius' cloak with relative ease and the heavy wool began to slide over the slope of Sirius' shoulders and down his back. Before it could pool at the base of the chair, James scooped up the cloak and placed it over his own shoulders, fastening the clasp as he nodded at the cloak draped across his own chair and then Peter. "Put that around him and get him back to the castle, Wormtail."

There was a polite cough from behind the book.

James rolled his eyes. "Thought you weren't having any part of this, Moony."

"You and Peter drugged him," said Remus calmly. "I had no part in that."

James threw back his head and laughed. "But it's all right for you to haul his arse back to the castle because that's what friends are for, yeah?"

"Precisely."

"You're a real tit sometimes, Moony," said James, grinning as he tossed a few sickles on the table. "That ought to cover it. I'll see you lot back in Gryffindor." After dodging a rowdy group of warlocks crowding about the bar, James turned round in front of the door and watched as Remus and Peter worked on manoeuvring Sirius out from the table. He knew full well that Sirius was going to be fucked off about this, but it was for his own good, really.

It would have been completely mad of Sirius to meet Lucius Malfoy for "reasons that shall be disclosed during the length of the proposed engagement." Reasons which Sirius and the rest of them knew had to involve the Black family and an assortment of bullying, blackmailing, and hexing. Sirius would have been walking straight into a trap, had he gone to meet him.

James certainly was about to muck up whatever diabolical scheme Malfoy'd hidden up his expensive sleeves.

With a sly smile on his face, James pushed the door open and made his way across Hogsmeade. Sirius was going to owe him big-time for this one.

*****

An overwhelming stench of what he thought was goats greeted James when he opened up the door and stepped inside The Hog's Head. Wrinkling his nose and resisting the urge to gag, James drew the hood of Sirius' cloak up and slipped into the small room, weaving in and out of the packed crowd, eyes constantly searching. His eyes swept the bar and back again, lingering on a tall form across the way. Just past the end of the bar, right before the landing to the stairwell, was Lucius Malfoy. A hood completely covered his head, but James knew it was definitely him - the obviously-expensive cloak and the haughty posture were dead giveaways. Although James' lip curled at the sight of the older man, he forced himself to raise a hand in greeting, all the while lowering his head and pulling the hood to more closely mask his face. Lucius nodded briefly, turned, and disappeared up the stairwell. Pushing a hag out of his way, James jogged to the landing and glanced up, taking note of which way Lucius turned when he reached the top. Inhaling deeply, James ascended the staircase as calmly as he could, which was quite difficult since he just wanted to get this - whatever "this" was - over and done. When he hit the upper landing, James turned left, as Lucius had, and continued on down a narrow corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a door, slightly ajar. Snaking a hand into an inner pocket of his robe, James clenched his fingers tightly around the hilt of his wand and withdrew it, his action concealed by the heavy drape of the cloak. The hinges on the door squealed in protest as James pushed it open. Flinching from the sound, he stepped inside the dimly-lit room. Instantly, the familiar sound of a wand whistling through air as it swished and flicked resonated in the silence. Behind him, the door slammed shut, followed by the audible _click_ of the lock.

"You're not Black," a voice said smoothly, not sounding surprised or affronted in the least.

"I'm not," James answered defiantly, standing up to his full height.

"Interesting." Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the darkest part of the room into the beam of light that had forced its way in through a thin crack between the slats of the window shutter. Folding his fingers together in a steeple, he nodded once, indicating toward the hand James had hidden under his cloak. "I wouldn't do that, Potter."

The tiny hairs on the back of James' neck prickled; he didn't like the casual, almost careless tone of Lucius' voice. The grip on his wand tensed. "I'm not doing anything," James ground out through gritted teeth, the hood falling down as he jerked his head to get a better look at Lucius.

"Of course you aren't," said Lucius, flicking his wand at James with ease, an incantation - _Expelliarmus_ \- rolling over his tongue and past his lips before James could react. Lucius raised a hand and easily caught James' wand, a condescending smile curving his mouth.

"Give me my wand back," James snarled, taking a step toward Lucius.

Lucius made no attempt to move out of James' path, eyes roaming over his frame. James shifted uncomfortably in his spot; he didn't like how Lucius was looking him over, not one sodding bit. "No," Lucius said finally, "I don't think I will. Not just yet." James opened his mouth to protest, to threaten, but Lucius simply held one hand up in a ceasing gesture and kept on talking, his tone maddeningly conversational. "How badly do you want your wand, Potter? Are you willing to work for it? Or would you rather turn and run back to Black, tail between your legs, defeated?"

"Shut. Up." 

"Do you think Black will be disappointed in you? Disappointed that you could not best me or do whatever trifling thing it is you came here to do?"

"Shut your gob," James snapped, advancing on Lucius.

The smile on Lucius' face broadened. "Potter, I'm curious...does your little Mudblood know? Does she feel threatened by Black? By what you have with each other?"

James swallowed hard against the bile that rose in his throat, his stomach twisting and turning and hot and ugly. The longer he stared back at Lucius, the angrier he got. Seeing red, he lunged at Lucius, letting out a string of curses along the way.

"Temper," Lucius said softly, the tip of his wand digging into the base of James' neck, stopping James dead in his tracks. Lucius' eyes flashed _I dare you to move_ but his lips said nothing.

"What do you want with Sirius?" James asked slowly, feeling the uncomfortable pressure of the tip of Lucius' wand against his throat with every syllable uttered. 

"That isn't any of your concern, Potter." The pressure on James' neck decreased slightly and Lucius gave James a small smile loaded with confidence and promise. He dragged the wand along the curve of the neck base, up the column of the throat, flicking lightly at the shell of James' ear. "The correct question to ask would be 'what do you want with me?'" 

James closed his eyes, wanting to shut out that stupid smile, and bit down on his lip. He didn't like this. Lucius was too close and had his wand and this was all _wrong_. This was all wrong and he wanted to tell Lucius to sod off but, _dammit_ , he knew he was going to ask Lucius that question, even if he also knew he shouldn't. He should do _something_. He was quick and agile and had excellent reflexes; it was very likely that he could make a move on Lucius and retrieve his wand before Lucius could even flick his wrist. But James was also curious, temperamental, and prone to shooting his gob off when it came to fuckwits like Lucius Malfoy. 

"What," said James, his mouth curving venomously, "do you want with me, Malfoy?"

"Your question is incorrect, Potter," Lucius murmured, his lips moving languidly against James' ear as he spoke. "Quite incorrect." There was a fleeting warm wetness - _his tongue oh shite_ \- on the shell of his ear, and then there was heat and softness over the lobe and the tip of the wand pressing from behind. 

James' lids flew open and he let out a gasp. 

And then he understood what Lucius had meant.

What did he, James, want with him, Lucius?

_You could have left. You could have hexed me. You didn't have to follow me. Yet here you are, Potter._ With every flick of tongue against his ear and movement of the wand between the sensitive cartilage and Lucius' lip, James knew Lucius was mocking him, thinking those very words, taunting him. He hated the words and he hated the feeling of Lucius' mouth on his skin and he hated himself for not leaving when he'd had the chance. 

"Leave off," James managed to get out, pushing at Lucius' chest and stumbling backwards.

"I don't believe you really wish for me to do that," Lucius said, laughing softly as he idly swished his wand at James. A thin strand of misty silver light trickled out the tip of Lucius' wand and wafted in the air slowly toward James. He scrambled back away from it, but it was of no use. The light shimmered and sparkled, wrapping itself sinuously around James' wrists. 

"What in the--"

James' hands rose above his head, his wrists now shackled in thick manacles. Another swish of the wand and chains appeared; James flew rearward, landing heavily against a wall, chains rattling against the stone. Tilting his head back, the crown pressing hard against the wall, James' eyes followed the length of the chain up to where they disappeared into the jointure of wall and ceiling. Fuck. And the chain was thick, too. _Double fuck._

The feel of a wand running up and down the centre of his chest gave him cause to tear his eyes away from his bonds and focus on Lucius again. The arrogant bastard opened the fastenings on his robe and, with an embellished swish and flick of the wand, the robe and Sirius' cloak disappeared. 

"Tell me, Potter," said Lucius conversationally, flicking the buttons on James' uniform shirt off one-by-one with his wand, "what is it about Black that draws you to him? Is it his charm? His... _enthusiasm_? His cock?" Lucius pressed his frame against James' for emphasis, grinding what was unmistakably his erection into James' hip.

"Don't," James rasped, pushing back against the wall, cursing the fact that he couldn't just disappear into it.

Lucius wasn't affected by this in the slightest, moving against James once more, his hand snaking between them, fingers pressing against the erection James hadn't even realised he'd had. Trying his damnedest not to groan, James dug his nails into his palms, air whistling through the gaps between his clenched teeth. 

"There's a good lad," Lucius whispered against James' ear, his breath moist and hot and delicious on his skin. As Lucius slid his hands inside James' shirt and up his back, he drew James closer, so close that their erections were pressing against each other, separated only by thin layers of fabric. James heard a moan and he didn't know whose it was and then there was a loud ripping sound, followed by the faint whisper of fabric fluttering to the floor and a rush of cool air on his chest. When Lucius' hands settled on his arse and jerked him forward so their cocks bumped together, James realised that it was _him_ , that he'd made that sound and that he was _still_ making that sound. 

He shouldn't be making that sound. He didn't want to be making that sound. But it was really difficult to go about having a battle of morality when someone was rubbing against his cock and rocking hips against his own. It really was.

"You're awfully hard, James," Lucius noted, nonchalantly pulling back, his hand brushing against the obvious tent of James' trousers. James yelped, his chin dropping to his chest, watching as Lucius' fingers idly circled over the head of his cock before pulling away. "I think," Lucius said, producing again the wand James hadn't even noticed he'd put away, "it would be polite of you not to come before me."

James didn't think about being polite. He didn't think about anything save for how badly he wanted to come - how badly he _needed_ to come - and how Lucius had a hand palm-flat on his stomach and was sliding it up his bare chest, every nerve standing on edge in the wake of his touch. There was a painful twitching in his cock and Lucius' hand yanked hard on his tie - somehow Lucius had seen fit to remove the shirt but left the Gryffindor tie - and James' body bowed out from the wall, his arms straining above his head. "Do you agree?" Lucius' face was so close to his that their lips were just barely touching, his lower lip ticking James'. 

"I'm not--"

"You're not what, Potter?" 

It was a struggle not to move that infinitesimal bit forward and properly press his mouth against Lucius'. He was right _there_ and his breath was warm and smelled of some sweet wine and James _wanted_. He wanted and it was wrong but he couldn't help it; he felt himself harden even more and let out a puff of breath against Lucius' mouth - and felt it rebound back to his own lips - when there was yet another yank on his tie. James' glasses slipped down his nose and Lucius tugged on the tie again, causing James' head to loll back, glasses falling back against the bridge of his nose. The sound of a wand cutting through the air reached his ears and then there was the soft slide of fabric over hips and cock and down legs, pants and trousers pooling at James' ankles. 

James moaned urgently, so turned on and horrified and confused that he probably wouldn't have been able to recall his name if asked. "I won't--"

But what exactly James wouldn't do became unimportant, because suddenly there was something cool and metallic against his skin, encircling his cock. It grew tighter and tighter until James finally let out a whimper-gasp.

"You won't be telling Black," Lucius finished for him, threading the tip of his wand up under the cock ring.

"I won't!" James choked, not even sure what the hell he was saying that he wouldn't be doing. "Won't. _Won't_."

"No," Lucius said, sinking to his knees, "you won't."

James' cock twitched, the tip quivering, and he let out a curse; he'd never had a cock ring on but he knew what they did to a bloke. Sirius had bragged one night about wearing one during a tryst with Genevieve Quirke, going on and on about how fucking fantastic his orgasm had been once he'd taken the cock ring off. James didn't know if he'd get to come; he expected Lucius to kill him, one way or another.

Lucius bent his head to the slippery head of James' cock - foreskin stretched around it, the shaft an angry red - and _kissed_ it, then lapped at the drop of pre-come glistening on the slit. James grunted painfully as Lucius sucked the head just barely into his mouth, his tongue tracing around it and pushing the foreskin back, then taking it fully into his mouth. Blood and heat gathered in his groin and James couldn't do a thing about it, couldn't let the tension build and move through the length of his cock because of its binding and it drove him mad. He could see Lucius' head bob back and forth, lips and teeth and tongue moving over his cock to the top of the cock ring and back again, all the while sucking and humming and swallowing and nipping. James' hips jerked uncontrollably and he trembled, rising to the balls of his feet and _shoving_ himself into Lucius' mouth, knowing he couldn't come but unable to stop himself from trying.

And then it stopped.

Lucius released his cock with a soft _pop_ and rose to his feet. He pressed his mouth against James', whispering something that James didn't quite hear, and he felt Lucius hands curling under his knees, pulling his legs up, wrapping them around Lucius' waist. Lucius' bare waist. He'd charmed his clothing gone. When his glasses slipped down his nose again, James shook his head, whipping them off. Whatever was going to happen - _he knew what was going to happen_ \- he didn't want to see, he didn't want to have the picture clear in his mind, burnt into his memory. Feet hooked together just atop Lucius' arse and there was a strong hand at the small of his back, lifting him up. 

Next thing James knew, a light touch grazed his arse and slippery fingers slid between his cheeks. He lurched back against the wall, the metallic clang of the chains hurting his ears, surprised and more than a little turned on - _Oh God what the bloody **fuck**_ \- and there was a slick finger pressing against him, pressing against his arsehole and then he felt himself give way. "Ngggh." Lucius slid a second finger inside him, his fingers moving insistently again and again at a spot that made James scream.

"You want of me, James," Lucius whispered, his fingers twisting deep inside James. 

_No_ , James wanted to moan. 

"You want of me and you think it's wrong," Lucius continued, leaning over James' form, capturing his mouth for a scorching kiss, his tongue moving at the same pace as his fingers. James writhed beneath him, all sense of propriety and logic gone now; Lucius was too _good_ at this. He knew how to touch and how to lead and how to just--

"Fuck," James gasped.

"Patience," Lucius chided, sounding amused as he removed his fingers, laying his hands on the inside of James' thighs and pushing them further apart. There was something hard and hot and blunt against his arse and Lucius shoved himself inside, not stopping until James could feel Lucius' balls against his arse. James could do nothing but buck and thrust, moving no further than the chains would allow and cursing that very fact. . He could feel how raw his wrists were becoming and he didn't care, needing now more than anything to feel the sweet friction of that cock in his arse, to do something to get his mind off the fact that his own cock was so fucking hard that he couldn't take it. Lucius' breath came out in pants, James' grunts and moans mingling with the rattling of the chains and the sound of skin slapping against skin. James was sure Lucius was going to fuck him right into that wall and he didn't give a damn if it hurt; he needed it. He _wanted_ it now, God help him. Clearly Lucius wanted it to last, to prolong the torture of James' nearly-purple cock; he fucked James with slow strokes, long and lazy, moving deep and angling just _so_ in a way that the head of his cock would push James' prostrate, eliciting strangled sobs from James. James couldn't help it; his cock was nearly flush against his belly and so rigid and angry that it--

Lucius' hand took hold of James' cock, squeezing it as he emptied himself in James' arse. There was a warm, pulsing sensation inside him and James couldn't stop the tears from leaking out the corner of his eyes. It was too much, all of it. 

That's when Lucius released the cock ring, when tears began to slip down James' cheeks. And, when that happened, James screamed louder than he ever had in his young life and came, thrusting his cock up into the ring of Lucius' fingers. Come spurted over Lucius' aristocratic hands and over his belly and right onto Lucius Malfoy's cheek. Immediately Lucius pulled out and pushed James' feet away, wiping at his face disdainfully. With his legs nothing more than useless jelly, James sagged, only held upright by his shackles.

Lucius' earlier words echoed in his mind. _"You won't be telling Black."_

No, he wouldn't be telling Sirius about this. He wouldn't be telling anyone about this. And James thought dazedly, torn between feeling ashamed and angry and feeling horrified and embarrassed by it all, that was almost too bad. He doubted anyone else had the cheek to come on Lucius Malfoy's face.


End file.
